Adorable
by actingwithportals
Summary: Day eleven of my thirty-one day writing challenge. Jack wanted nothing more than to see Crutchie smile


Jack always thought of himself as funny. There wasn't a single newsie in the Lodging House who he couldn't make laugh. No matter how bad of a day they had, Jack could always find the right words to cheer them up and bring a smile to their face.

That is, until a certain young boy arrived at the Lodging House.

Jack had taken Crutchie under his wing from the day he brought him in, even giving him his nickname, since the boy refused to provide any other. He had willingly accepted the name, saying that he felt it suited him after being provided with a wooden crutch. Jack was pleased to have found something to call him, but still wasn't sure what he truly thought of it, or anything else for that matter on the account of one thing.

The boy wouldn't smile.

Never, not once. Jack had tried everything; telling jokes, doing impressions, as many acts of kindness as he could think of, but the boy never even cracked the faintest grin. His expression always stayed guarded, refusing to evolve into anything more than the blank stare he usually wore, or the occasional glare he would give people whom he felt threatened by.

He rarely spoke as well, usually settling for nods or the shake of a head. Even when selling the papers he generally kept quiet, never shouting out headlines like the rest of the newsies. This often resulted in him not selling many papers, and often times Jack found himself having to pay for the younger boy's food and stay. He warned him that he would have to start pulling his own weight, but Jack could never truly bring himself to cut the younger boy off. Clearly something had disturbed this kid enough to make him this way, and Jack didn't have the heart to simply throw him out back onto the cruel streets of New York. No, he would continue to pay his way until the boy learned how to sell better, and hopefully that would be soon.

Crutchie shared a bunk with him, refusing to share with anyone else. He barely interacted with the other newsies, preferring to stay by Jack's side. Jack tried to help him branch out and become friendly with the others, but it would only result in him hiding behind Jack, shaking his head fervently in terror. He was skittish, that was for sure, and he clearly didn't trust easily.

One night in particular had been exceptionally bad. All the boys were sitting around the living room, playing a card game on the floor, when Race suddenly tapped Crutchie on the shoulder, meaning to tell him something. Crutchie reacted by planting a fist directly in Race's face, sending him sprawling to the floor with a bloody nose. No one had excepted it from the small kid, and were all left to stare dumbfounded at the event that had taken place. The rest of the night Crutchie didn't leave Jack's side, practically clinging to him until the moment they went to bed.

The closest Jack had ever seen to Crutchie showing an expression of happiness was around food. That boy's eyes always grew ten times bigger at the sight of it, and he ate more than Jack thought possible for someone of his size. It was a pain keeping him fed, and Crutchie spent more times than not complaining about being hungry, but it was the best Jack could do in his situation. It wasn't like he was rich or nothing, barely making pennies a day and having to pay for not only himself but for the young boy as well.

Jack was only twelve, and yet he already had the responsibility of another person on his shoulders, and sometimes that weight felt too much to bear. Some nights he would turn in early, hiding in his bunk and refusing to talk to anyone, even Crutchie, who would sit on the bottom bunk dejected. Jack couldn't help it, sometimes the kid was just too much. But he knew he couldn't abandon him, no matter how hard it got.

It was another early morning when the bell rung, Jack hopping out of bed and getting Crutchie up as well. They got dressed and headed down to newsies square, buying their papers and heading out to the streets. Crutchie followed after Jack that day, seeming clingier than his normal self. Jack tried not to mind, deciding that having someone so young looking could be to his advantage, anyways. Jack sold most of his papers early on, helping Crutchie sell the last of his. As they sold their final paper, Jack offered to buy the kid dinner, and the two started making their way to their favorite food spot, Jacobi's. It was a fairly decent walk from where they had been selling, so Jack decided to regale Crutchie with some stories about his life at the Lodging House. It was another sad attempt at making the boy smile, one that bore no fruit, as Crutchie would only nod at appropriate times, his face remaining blank.

"So that's when I told Specs 'I ain't never heard of her, but I'd sure like to'," Jack said, laughing. "Awe, come on, that makes everybody laugh."

Crutchie just looked up at him plainly, a confused expression on his face.

"Never mind, I guess you had to be there," Jack grumbled, walking on ahead. He turned back to face Crutchie. "And keep up, would ya? I can't have you getting lost on my account, you hear?"

Crutchie stopped, pointing ahead silently.

"What?" Jack asked, turning forward and walking face first into a street lamp. He fell back, stumbling and falling on his butt, holding his nose that was now probably bleeding.

Crutchie rushed to his side, kneeling down beside him with a worried look on his face. Jack looked up at him, with an expression probably equally confused, if not more so.

"Where the hell did that street lamp come from?" Jack asked, looking down at his now bloody hand. He looked back up at Crutchie, and stared at him in shock.

Was he . . . smiling?

The corners of Crutchie's mouth twisted upwards, his lips pulling apart and showing his teeth. The next thing Jack knew, high pitched laughter started escaping him, as Crutchie held his sides in his fit of entertainment.

"Is you . . . laughing at me?" Jack asked, astounded.

His laughter only grew, Crutchie nodding his head up and down and now holding one hand to his mouth. He couldn't stop, and eventually he had to sit on the ground, holding himself together with trembling arms.

Jack just watched him in shock and confusion, not understanding why the boy had found that so funny. Was his pain really that entertaining?

Crutchie finally gathered himself, his laughs subsiding to small giggles, and he slowly let his hand fall from his face. "You shoulda seen yourself," he snickered. "Your face was all red and confused, like you didn't know which way was up."

Jack frowned. "I try for weeks to get you to crack a smile, and you finally decide to laugh at my pain?"

Crutchie continued to giggle. "Yes,' he said, smiling broadly.

Jack tried to come up with an argument to that, but found that words had failed him. He was too transfixed by that smile, a smile so bright he bet it could light up a whole room. He had never seen anything like it before; it met his eyes so purely, and they were shining like a million stars. Jack decided then and there he loved that smile, and would do anything to keep it from fading.

"You'se kinda adorable, you know that?" Jack asked, grinning up at him.

Crutchie immediately frowned, his giggles now gone.

"It's a compliment," Jack assured him. "You'se like . . .sunshine or something."

Crutchie gave a small smile at that, and Jack felt his heart swell. Yes, he would never get tired of seeing that grin, and he hoped it would never leave him, for as long as he lived.

He never would have expected that smile would greet him every morning from then on.


End file.
